AT TIMES, parenting seems to be a billion tiny chores strung together, a long constellation of micromilestones stretched to the limits of the day.

Before Owen arrived, the list of required chores was far shorter. In our rental flat, we had to take care of the dishes and the laundry on a regular basis. And pay the rent. The rest was largely details.

But those details were blown out into lengthy lists. My day, particularly the workday, used to be organized around a detailed “to do” list, which even had lamentable entries such as “host BBQ” and “mail bills” on the page, as if these events required the harboring of strength and resources to complete. Time to climb “Mount Mail Bills,” indeed.

I’d write these two-word action items down and, upon completion, take a crumb of satisfaction in moving them to the bottom of the electronic list.

Owen has scattered that pile of crumbs from here to retirement. What formerly fit under the heading of “Get ready for work” has now broken down into a lengthy series of steps coordinated between me and my wife, mostly triggered by the activities of a squeezable 9-month-old. I’ve written this list down. It covers two pages. Yeah, it’s a lot of stuff. Yeah, it all must get done. Yeah, it marks the beginning of another lengthy day. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

When you become a parent, your life with your partner becomes even more intertwined. How you organize your day is always filtered through the schedule of your partner and your child, particularly if you both work. Each day, then, becomes an assessment of what is important to the child, to the family, and to the self, probably in that order. Given the changes that a youngster undergoes in the first year, the values of the family are constantly under review.

Over time, things settle down.

As life with Owen rolls along, our focus on providing for him has spread to a greater commitment to the household. I grumble less about having to do the dishes, and my wife is getting better about bringing them to the kitchen. Hand in hand, the three of us stride across the constellation of our day.

Before Owen, our life was almost laughably unbusy. There was so much invention, so much generated activity labeled under the urgent heading of “Today.” Yeah, I gave up most of my fitness program. Yeah, I’m a little fuzzy on the details of our finances. But the plain of our life as a family now extends to the horizon. Through Owen, we three are tied together forever.

What happens under “Today” isn’t so important.

In a way, writing in detail about “Today” gave me permission to forget. I used to write those long lists so that I could let go of them, referring to them only when I failed to remember.

But it took the arrival of my son to really break free. The lengthy “Today” list is gone. What remains on the daily list has little to do with “Today” and more to do with all our “Tomorrows.”

I mostly remember the important stuff, and where I fail to remember “Today,” my wife and her fine memory are there to remind me. Freed from the tyranny of “Today,” I am more present.

Parenting and its billion chores require persistence, but in the effort, I have discovered in myself an adaptability to the labors of love. I do a lot more meaningful stuff than I ever did, and I can’t tell you what happened two days ago.

Owen’s chores?:

Be happy

Stay healthy

Grow

Explore

Love

I am learning to like his list a lot.

But it’s going to be a while before he and I get to switch lists, when his tomorrow becomes his today, and all I have left is to enjoy the day itself.